


A Little Taste of Heaven

by Epiphanyx7



Category: Supernatural
Genre: All of the Feelings, Anal Sex, Casual Sex, Dark, Dark Sam Winchester, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Rough Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-30
Updated: 2009-11-30
Packaged: 2017-11-01 01:13:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/350341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Epiphanyx7/pseuds/Epiphanyx7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How could anyone not want Cas?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Taste of Heaven

**Author's Note:**

> [Written in response to a **midnightwriting** challenge.] I have no words. I was so squicked by writing this, but I just -- wow. So many things I was writing and they made me get all grossed-out and I couldn't stop. Probably one of the most fucked up narratives I've ever, ever written. NOT what was wanted, but fuck that. Threesomes are so last year.

  


Castiel's keeps his eyes closed when Sam fucks him, because he is an angel and Sam doesn't like looking into his eyes. His eyes are so -- serene and beautiful and _judgmental_. It's unnerving, actually, makes Sam want to look away or -- god forbid -- stop thrusting into him, which is why Sam instituted the ' _don't fucking look at me_ ' rule back when this began.

It had been easier, then, because Cas was all angelic and full of divine power, and Sam hadn't felt guilty about holding him down, about pushing into his body and enjoying the hot, sweet slide, Cas' thighs taut and wrapped around Sam's waist. He likes it better like this, Cas on his back on top of the motel sheets, and Sam can take his time and fuck him for as long as he wants. It's delicious and amazing and wrong, so very fucking wrong, but Sam doesn't mind so long as Castiel keeps his eyes closed, doesn't make much noise.

Except for recently, Cas isn't so quiet. Now, Castiel flinches when Sam touches him, his breathing stutters when Sam thrusts in, and he makes this noise, softly and in the back of his throat, and Sam isn't sure whether Cas is enjoying it or if it's hurting him. The thought pisses him off, though, because Cas was a fucking angel -- that was the only reason Sam liked this, liked touching him all over, biting at his lips and collarbones, being inside him. Cas was as close as Sam was likely to get to heaven, he knows it even as he pushes inside of him, even as he touches the flat planes of Cas' stomach, the smooth skin over his hipbones. This was it; _this_ was Sam's only taste of heaven, and Cas is taking that away from him by turning into a _human_.

Castiel whimpers again, when Sam pushes in. That's fucking stupid, because Sam's not even being rough. This is him being _gentle_. He's always gentle, always nice, he preps Castiel with lots of lube and makes sure his cock is nice and slick before he fucks him. "What is _wrong_ with you," Sam says (pants) and Castiel opens his eyes to answer.

His eyes are blue, and endless, and wide and deep as the ocean. They're beautiful and eternal and a hundred thousand other words that Sam cannot begin to describe, and looking into them he feels shame and guilt and --

"Don't fucking look at me," he snarls, slapping Cas lightly across his face, gripping his jaw and keeping him like that, head turned to the side.

Cas makes this face, this stupidly annoyed grimace, and says, "Sam, I---"

Sam covers his mouth with his hand, shifts his weight onto his knees and just fucks him, lifting Cas' leg over his shoulder and sliding home. It never stops being good, with Cas, it's always _perfect_ , amazing, hot as fuck and tight and just slick enough, even if Sam is peripherally aware of the fact that Cas isn't enjoying himself, it doesn't really matter.

Then, three things happen simultaneously: Sam lets go of Cas' mouth, the motel door opens, and Castiel says " _Dean,_ " in a tight, shocked voice, completely different from the way he usually talks.

Sam jerks, stills, realizing that Dean has, in fact, walked into the room. Unlike the thousand _other_ times that Dean has walked into a motel room and found his little brother fucking someone, Dean does not immediately back out. Instead, he is standing in the doorway with his jaw hanging open, surprise written on his face.

Sam closes his eyes. (If he thought anyone was listening, he would pray for forgiveness). He counts to three. And when he opens his eyes again, Dean is still there, still staring, still wide-eyed and shocked and possibly a little bit angry.

"Little busy, here," Sam says, and slides out a little bit, ignoring Cas' flinch, and he thrusts again, adding a slow grinding circle to the movement of his hips.

Dean stands in the door way and watches, which should have been a total turn off, but Castiel chooses that moment to fucking _whimper_ , the noise torn from his throat almost brutally. Sam looks down at him, notices that Castiel's face is still turned toward the doorway, still on Dean, and whatever it is he sees on Dean's face has mesmerized the angel. Sam thrusts into him again, relishing the soft noise Castiel makes this time, and the corresponding flush that spreads over his skin, turning his cheeks pink and his lips a darker shade of red.

And he's even getting _hard_ , the little slut.

" _Sam_ , what're you--" Dean's voice is hoarse, raw, and he's still _in the fucking doorway_.

Sam leans forward, lets Cas' leg slip down his shoulder and drop onto the bed. Cas is still looking at Dean, and he's trembling just the tiniest bit.

"It's okay," Sam whispers in his ear, gentling his touch, slowly grinding his hips. Cas is getting hard. Cas shouldn't be able to get hard, but it's happening anyway, and this is probably it, this is the sign that Cas is barely even an angel anymore, because there's probably nothing more base and disgusting and human than the sex act. Cas shudders in Sam's arms, and he's not perfect any more, he's not angelic and pure. Now he's sweating, he's hard, he's naked and human and looking at Dean.

Mouthing at the skin underneath Castiel's ear, Sam thrusts into him as gently as he can, pressing inside as slowly as he's ever managed. He wants Cas to feel this, he wants him to feel it -- and even though Sam rests his weight on his elbow and closes his eyes tight, he's still aware that Dean is in the room. "Is it him you want," Sam whispers in Cas' ear, quietly enough that Dean probably can't hear him. "Do you wish it was him? Want him to be the one inside of you?"

Probably.

"Go ahead," Sam sighs, knowing that Cas is feeling this, really _feeling_ it for the first time. "Go ahead, say his name, Cas,"

And he's almost shocked when Cas obeys, when the angel beneath him says, " _Dean_ ," and his voice sounds ragged and broken. His hips shift, underneath Sam, just a tiny hitch that means his body is asking for more.

There's the sound of something breaking as Dean drops whatever it was he was carrying, and he even takes a step back. " _What the fuck_ ," he says, but he's still not leaving.

Sam makes the choice for him, turns to look at his brother standing tall in the doorway with broken glass and still-frothing beer at his feet. Sliding into Cas one more time, a gentle thrust that doesn't reflect his tone,Sam says "Close the door, Dean," and it never occurs to any of them that Dean will leave the room.

Dean closes the door.

And Sam sits up, leaving Cas splayed out on the bed like a sacrifice. He pulls out, because everything went to an entirely fucking new level of weird and wrong, and also because Sam is having fun and doesn't want it to end. He wraps a hand around Cas' cock, giving it a few short tugs until he's all the way hard. Cas turns to look at him, shocked and maybe a little overwhelmed, but Sam sees it coming and slaps him again, repeating his instructions once more. "Don't fucking look at me," He says, and Cas swallows audibly but keeps his head turned to the side. His eyes are still open.

Sam holds him down with one hand, fingers spread out over his chest, and jerks him with the other. Castiel breathes, which shouldn't be fucking hot, but angels don't need to breathe and every single exhalation and every shaking breath is a testament to his humanity, every hitch and sob and sigh is proof of how far he's fallen. He arches up beneath Sam's hands, shakes and trembles and breathes, and his eyes remain on Dean.

Dean is just standing there, watching, his breathing harsh and his eyes wide and he looks really, really pissed off or really turned on. Sam looks down at Cas, spread out in front of him and arching upwards, hips lifting as he tries to fuck Sam's hand, and he thinks that Dean can't not want him like this. How could anyone not want Cas?

Cas says " _Oh --_ " and " _I--_ " and " _Dean,_ " and Sam knows he's going to come, so he tightens his grip and moves faster, Castiel's cock slick and damp under his hand. "Dean," Cas says, and then his eyes flutter closed and he says it again, " _Dean,_ " only this time he's moaning, and then he's coming, hips bucking up and come spattering over his chest and stomach.

Dean makes a noise like he's broken, and Sam doesn't look at him when he pushes Cas' legs further apart, slides back into his sweet, tight heat. He fucks Castiel and keeps his eyes closed, murmuring things he's not quite sure he understands into the angel's ear. "It's okay," Sam says, even though Dean is breathing harshly, standing in front of the motel door. "I like it when you say his name," Sam whispers, and Cas arches up underneath him, crying out, his hips twisting in a silent plea for more.

Sam fucks him and Castiel says "Yes," and Sam fucks him and Castiel says "Please' and Sam fucks him and Castiel says " _Dean -- Oh, Dean,_ " and even when Sam is coming he finds it kind of funny that Castiel uses his brother's name instead of God's.

He pulls out with a wince, before he's got time to soften up, and doesn't quite scramble to get off of the bed. Castiel lies there, with his mouth open and his legs spread, breathing harsh and loud in the room. His lips are red and bruised, cock is hard and he has semen smeared over his chest. He's sweaty and filthy, looking like he belongs in a damned porno instead of like the holy tax accountant he'd been when he first arrived on the scene. He looks, Sam thinks with detached amusement, like the most vulgar, human thing on Earth.

For a second, Sam is disgusted by him. "I need a shower," he announces to the room at large. "He's all yours, man," and he gives Dean a quick, brotherly slap on the shoulder as he walks by him on the way to the bathroom.

Dean stares at Cas with wide eyes, and Cas looks back at him. Stepping into the bathroom, Sam hears his brother's footsteps, stumbling a little bit when he walks. Dean pauses by the bed, knees bumping against the mattress, and when Sam starts the shower, humming to himself, he sees Castiel sit up.

It's kind of pathetic, the way Castiel stares at Dean as if he's seen God, the way Dean stares at Castiel as if there's nothing in the world he needs more. Cas places a hand on the side of Dean's face, reverently, adoringly, and Dean presses their foreheads together in a gesture that is somehow more intimate than a kiss.

But, Sam thinks, closing the door and stepping under the warm spray. It's not a big deal. Not to him.

Sam is finished with Cas, anyway.

-  



End file.
